Sands of my Homeland
by EggMonster
Summary: We are plugged in, with no say in our own actions. We live and die under steel shells and never stray from whatever trail they pave for us... Completed.
1. Chapter One

**Author's Notes: **I sorta like this story idea…. I really want to complete this story in chapters, so they might be short, but bear with me. I have a short attention span. Or maybe I'll forget and this'll be as far as I get. Either way. Not that interesting anyway. I just wanted to explore the home planet Irk some, with a less technology-dependent Irken.

Don't own blah blah Jhonen Vasquez blah blah blahhh

* * *

Mechanic Fer sat lonely on one of the few desolate dusty hills that had not been built upon. Planet Irk was mostly covered in buildings now, but ever since the first successful conquering of a planet since mission Impending Doom 2 started, the older, unusable ones were bulldozed, the natural land left open again. Fer, like any other Irken, enjoyed the economic growth and expanding empire of his race, but on his home planet, he was always depressed to see those old, abandoned buildings littering the beautiful sands of Irk.

He worked in one of the functioning plants, building the Voot cruisers all invaders used. About a forth of the planet was dedicated specifically for the purpose of building and designing customized cruisers for invaders, but most of the other automotive craft used in the empire were now built on Constructia, planet 2. SIR units were still built here, too, along with the customization and creation of PAKs, the three one of the few things that conquered races were not forced to work on. Then, a small canyon away, lay the giant headquarters of the Irken empire. One section, about five dozen kilometers in perimeter, was the nerve center of the Irken race, where the birth tubes were fertilized, raised, and hatched by computers. Within the same building, though taking up a much larger portion of it, was the control panel for the leaders; it was where the control brain was housed, the landing dock for The Massive and the home control panel were located, and the Tallest's living rooms. But the PAK assembly plants were closer to the north pole, and H.Q. was clear on the other side of the planet (and took up most of that side, too). The rest of Irk was mostly a recreation and living camp, which could be better described as a tourist center.

Fer was but a lowly mechanic, however he and the other Irken workers stationed here, probably never to go anywhere else, were allowed one special privilege: Instead of the traditional dress of their rank, they could wear whatever they wanted, outside of work hours. They purchased clothing from other planets and civilizations, conquered and free, and it was the one amusement to many of the Irkens who came to despise their stations in plants. Their uniform was basically that of an Invader's, but the pants had large pockets on the outside of each leg, to hold tools, their gloves did not go to their elbows, and their shirt was actually a pocketed vest, with short sleeves. Outside of work, Fer did not care to busy himself with something so mundane as clothes, but he did have an extra outfit that was a long-sleeved purple shirt, mammal-skin gloves tanned dark in color, and white pants made of some blend of materials he had never been able to identify.

Fer felt the loneliness sweep over him, but returning to his sleeping quarters and mingling with brain-washed drones would not help very much. Instead, he looked over to the stone path at the bottom of the hill. On a planet very much coated with wire, steel and concrete, this was one of the few spots clear of such, and the automotive walk had broken away and became buried under layers of sand many years ago, now only reaching the base of Fer's hill, and most Irkens would not stray off the paths. He stood, looked around in all directions, ran a short-range organic material scan, and decided it was clear.

All the working Irkens had PAKs designed especially for their jobs, and Fer's was built to hold extra tools and spare parts, his spider-like mechanical legs had small fingers on the end for working in small and cramped areas of the ship and for using tools difficult to use with hands, and his PAK was powered with a special jet fuel so he could easily reach higher places, yet the flame did not light other objects on fire with such ease, and emitted less heat (Fer could never remember the name of the fuel, no matter that he was told when he needed to refill).

Sitting on the ground with a smile on his lips, Fer reached back and pushed the two latches on either side of his PAK, and pulled.

Their was a groan and a burst of electricity as the PAK tried to remain connected, but it was much less subtle than it had been the first time he had taken his PAK off, months ago. Back then, he only had it off for a little over a minute before pain shot sporadically through his arms and legs, he felt a heavy pressure on his body, breathing became much more difficult, and his squigglyspooch began functioning much more slowly, noticeably. Now, he felt a slight tingle, and it might have been pain, but he had grown used to it, and it sort of felt relaxing to him. He knew he still would be in danger if it was off for more than twenty-six minutes, so he couldn't chuck the PAK off in to the horizon like he wanted to, but set it down two meters away, within his sights.

Fer liked taking off the PAK. His eyes weren't as sharp but his head was clearer, and his limbs didn't feel quite as strong, but he had better control over them. Fer took in a deep breath, smiling and closing his eyes. Technology long ago invented ceased the problems such as air pollution, at least on Irk, but you could never tell with the PAKs on. Now, he let clear air wash into his cells, and he looked up to the clear night sky. Farther away, behind factories, the lights to the sleeping house he was stationed in were still on, but the factory lights were out and their black forms hid the lights from view.

Fer's smile grew once again; he looked to the stars, clear above him, smaller planets than his beloved Irk glimmering before him. He wiggled out of his clothes, rolled into the sands of his planet, feeling cleaner than the days when they went through the sterilization chamber. This was Irk, and he was Irken; It was at not at the big conventions when he felt most pride in it, but at these times, when he was alone and felt at peace with the ground he lived on.

Fer made a blanket with the dirt, grinning from ear to ear, inhaling the soil and kissing the ground. Without the PAK, he wasn't under control. His beloved Irk. Without the PAK, it was all his.


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N:** I wrote a new chapter which I'm putting up because I'm going away for a few days, and I guess this will be an on-going story. Someone come review. I like reviews. They make me giggle in the pants.

Do you really think I would claim rights to Invader Zim? Because now that you mention it, I do. Jhonen Vasquez doesn't exist! I'm the real genius here! Now sue! Get me banned and sue your little hearts out! Mwahaha!

Okay, seriously, don't.

* * *

"Zim?" Fer's antennae pricked up at the mention of the name, looking away from his work on the control panel of a new Voot runner. The two mechanics whose conversation he intruded on looked over at him.

"Yeah, Zim," one of the mechanics, a female named Jibs, repeated as she rolled her eyes. "They're having a 'Thank Zim' convention, right on The Massive. One of the workers for the control brain let the word leak out. I think he's been terminated, but it's not that big of a deal workers know, anyway."

Fer's eyes narrowed. "_Thank_ Zim! Because of his actions during the original Mission Impending Doom, we had to rebuild and replace over one hundred runners! That piss ant should be _quarantined_! He should be _electrocuted_! He should be _terminated_!" He cried in rage. They had put in overtime for weeks...!

"I know, I know," The third Irken, a male named Remz, said with a shrug. "But hey, he hasn't caused us any problems in a while. Maybe he did something right."

Fer huffed, and turned back to the panel, Jibs and Remz returning to their own jobs. You only had so much time to chat during work before one of the computer cameras noticed you weren't busy and hit you with a small tazer. Putting a connector between two wires, Fer waved to Nyon, a junior worker waiting to test the controls a few meters away. Pressing a lever, an electric charge was seen going through one of the unwrapped wires to the uncompleted runner they were working on. The right rear thruster moved as Nyon pushed the lever back and forth, and after a moment he gave Fer a thumbs up. Fer nodded and leaned back, allowing a small break before he began organizing the wires and fixing his section of the controls to the inside of the ship.

Irken Invader Voot runners were still made individually by working Irkens primarily because it was harder for any sabotage to make an impact. It would only take one well-trained Irken ten minutes to hack into an assembly line and cause thousands upon thousands of different problems for fleets of runners, problems that might not even be noticed for hours or days. When they were made individually, one Irken could do very little before someone would notice. All the mechanics were taught the same skills. Fer and Jibs and Nyon and Remz should all be able to build an entire runner on their own, with the proper materials. Groups were only used to save time. And one of the other mechanics would notice any alteration in an unfinished voot before long. There was no way any one Irken could hurt anything. This was assured by the fact that Irkens didn't unionize.

Fer realised this as he sat on the cold assembly floor, his arms on his knees, utilizing his PAK to dim the noise. He felt connected to his race, yes- he knew he was just as much and just as little as his co-workers. If he saw someone struggling to do something on his own, Fer would help him out. But it was like...

His thoughts became bitter. Like they were programmed. Because there was no real personal connection- at least, nothing too deep. There was a wall, something no one else seemed to notice. He had some Irkens he liked and some he didn't, but he always listened to The Tallest and always obeyed, like everyone else. And it was probably because of their PAKS.

Fer also realised he was probably the only one with these thoughts. The PAKS kept them in line, all ordered and common. All Irkens were unique, but small, otherwise unnoticeable things were exactly the same, and it was like only Fer caught them. They were all cogs in a machine, robots doing their jobs without question or emotion. But something was _different_ with Fer- he thought of one night going to a deserted hill on his home planet, he thought one night of how his race started, he thought one night of becoming primal, he thought one night of committing high treason and removing his PAK of his own free will, not to die, but to live. He was the only one who was like this.

He was alone.

Fer leaned over on a hunk of scrap metal, maybe resting longer than he should have. He didn't really want the _walls_. He didn't want _bridges,_ either.

His small hand brushing over the metal floor, Fer concentrated, and felt soothing vibrations from somewhere far, far away. Somewhere in the heart of the planet. His planet.

All Fer wanted was Irk.


	3. Chapter Three

**Author's Notes:** I went away for a week, and come home only to find my internet has been disconnected. Rage!

This might have a lot of really short chapters, or I might cut out a chunk of the plot I had been thinking up, I don't know yet. This story is a combination of 'This is what I really think Irk would be like' and 'Hey, giant robot brain monsters are cool!' so I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this yet.

I don't own anything, blah. Blahhh. You should know this.

And thank you all for your kind reviews.

* * *

Fer once again sat on his lonely hill, looking past the dark shadows his people created and out into space. His clothes were folded neatly under his Pak a few meters away. He could now go nearly an hour without the Pak after consistently sneaking out here at night, but he dared not stay out longer than an hour, lest he be noticed missing from the common rooms. He wondered if some life form on one of those stars was looking back.

Trailing his hands through the red sands (A/N: Who could resist?), Fer stood up, began humming, and let himself spin. He did enjoy working on Voot runners, it was programmed into his head since birth, but it was slowly becoming unbearable. He was making simple mistakes, and failed to catch them. Every day he was shocked by a security camera's tazer for becoming distracted by his own thoughts and dozing off. All he wanted was to be outside, unclothed and unPAKed, alone and silent. The opposite of his working conditions. It was like his planet was calling to him, and him alone...

He stopped facing the opposite direction, looking out into darkness. He could see the glow from another facility's light to the right, but to the left, nothing. He wondered if there was a closed down factory there. He wondered if there had been a factory, but if it had been bulldozed, like the small building previously stationed on Fer's hill. He wondered if in that direction, Irkanes, the only other organism that thrived on Irk like the Irken race, grew there. If it did, Fer could survive there without the Pak. He could run there, and nobody would look for him. They would think he had snuck onto a ship somehow and left. Before he left, he would break and bury the Pak, and they would never be able to contact him again, not even the Control Brain.

He moved to look at his Pak and lump of clothes. Break the Pak...

One hour. Over an hour, and he would die without it. He only would have one peaceful, silent hour before he would be forced to once again wear the Pak and return to his quarters before he was reprimanded.

Fer clenched his fist. He didn't want an _hour_, he wanted a _lifetime_ without that, that _thing_, without those _things_ that called themselves Irken. Did they even care about their home planet anymore? In the name of great Irk, his ass! And the people in charge of the show were the worst! The Tallests, they didn't do anything besides make retarded decisions based on their moods and whims! They weren't leaders! They only had that position because of their height! And what in the name of Irk _was_ the control brain, anyway? A giant brain? From what? Who's idea was it that the best thing to lead the Irken race was something unidentifiable?

Fer at some point had begun punching the sand, but now slowed his rage, his outburst subsiding. The Control Brain and the Tallests...

But height wasn't everything...

He could overthrow the Tallests, take their place. As long as the rest of the Irkens had enough snacks and were fat and happy Fer didn't even need to worry about them. The Control Brain.. if he could get close enough to it, he could eliminate it, he knew for sure. The Brain must have a complex computer system to keep it alive and functioning, and it wouldn't be hard to mess it up. It probably also affected all the PAKs of every Irken alive. It might mess up the Pak's programming, the PAKs might even stop working...

_You'd kill a lot of Irkens._

Fer fell back on the sand. Red spots of dust floated up and obscured his vision. It was a crazy idea, but maybe not that crazy. It wasn't like he would be able to kill, though. The thought of his fellow workers lying dead, all of them, because of him, was something too hurtful to fathom. He wouldn't...

_But if it would free dear Irk..._

He wouldn't...

A small tingle began in his legs and spine, but Fer hadn't noticed it yet. Suddenly, his foot began twitching, and his whole leg went into a spasm. Flailing up, reality hit Fer. He had gone to an hour, and his body was no longer able to sustain itself without machinery. Clawing at the sand, he managed to drag himself over to his Pak, unable to grasp it as his fingers began twitching out of his control. He knocked the Pak over, then managed to throw his back onto it. Instantly the cords snapped out of the Pak into the holes on Fer's back, and after a moment the spasms stopped. Fer took a breath. It felt different. He wanted to cry.

He looked at his clothes with gloom, then began to get dressed. He would have to hurry back. His time here tonight was up.

The sadness in Fer's chest wasn't normal. He felt like he wanted to break..

'_Like my planet_,' he thought, '_my precious Irk is breaking. Like my heart is breaking for it. Like my mind is breaking for it...'_


	4. Chapter Four

**Author's Notes:** I DON'T OWN ANYTHING! GO AWAY! Besides Fer. And some other peoples. And the story.

Shut up.

This story will make me sad, as I have to be mean to the Tallests. Not neat. :(

* * *

"Fer, where were you?" Stek asked as he walked in. Since Irkens were essentially a lab baby race, there was no need for genders, and most didn't even notice, but Stek still had the classic traits of an Irken female. Walking into the common rooms, Fer shrugged. "I had a couple last minute mistakes to go back and fix on the runner."

"Well, there's no work tomorrow. The Tallest are declaring the opening of a new building nearby. All the workers in the area get to take the day off and attend."

"Is it mandatory?" Fer asked dully, letting himself fall into a chair. In some part of his mind he was thinking of escaping the masses and spending a whole day on his hill. He might have to alternate having the PAK on and off, but the time alone would make it worth it.

"Yeah," answered Stek, sitting next to him. "Here, a random shipment of clothes came in today. I picked out this hat for you, I think it suits you." Stek handed Fer a grey wool cap. He looked at it like it was something threatening, but realised he might stand out if he didn't take it. "...Thanks," Fer mumbled, dropping it on his head so his antennae poked out from underneath.

A moment of silence passed between them. His chin in his hands, Fer looked over at Stek. While some females still retained the more purple eyes, Stek's were unusually so. And her fingers were awfully slender. Fer tried to remember when it was that all Irkens were banned from mating and babies were born from computers. It disturbed Fer that while he knew a male and a female were needed to make a baby, he wasn't entirely sure how to do it. It also disturbed him to know he was the only one with these thoughts. He was different. Stek probably wasn't thinking of much as they sat in silence aside from her job and her Tallests, her natural purple eyes staring ahead vacantly.

Stek suddenly turned to face Fer, and he was surprised. "Why are you staring at me? It's creepy."

Fer's eyes went wide, then they eased. She was just another robot, after all. "Hey, Stek..." he said with a chuckle, leaning forward so his antennae brushed hers. "Wanna mate?"

Her eyes were very large at such a distance, and easily showed confusion. "What are you talking about?"

The hat had begun to fall off when Fer moved his antennae, so he grabbed it off his head as he stood up. "I have to go talk with a partner about helping me with the runner." Fer had no intention of speaking with Nyon, though. He walked to a corner where he could sit alone, and think. The whole time he moved past the other Irkens to the other side of the room, Fer could feel a pair of eyes on his back, and he felt very content with the fact that they were large, violet, questioning ones.

The time between work and rest always passed quickly, but Fer was startled when the group began to filter out of the room and along the route the robots instructed them to go, leading them to the ceremony. But his indifferent feelings to the whole affair quickly fell away as their group blended with the others, standing before the new construction site.

With horror, he realised the site was his hill.

A platform zoomed over, The Tallests waving at the crowd as a cheer rose from them. All except Fer. He stood quiet and stiff as stone, eyes blank.

"Our people, we are here today to announce the immediate construction of our new puppet theatre!" Tallest Red shouted.

"You aren't allowed in," Purple followed up. A few moans were heard from the crowd.

"You can look through the windows," Red said with a smile.

"But only if we say so," Purple said with glee.

"And right now... we say get back to work." Red finished, and the platform rose a bit, but remained hovering over the dispersing crowd, the Tallests waving once more. All except Fer began moving away.

_His hill._

His eyes cold, angry, he fixed his gaze upon the two who made sure they towered over the rest of the Irken race. For no reason. These weren't rulers, they were clowns.

_His_ hill.

Height wasn't everything, and as he looked upon The Tallests, he knew it was true.

Height wasn't everything.

Height wasn't everything.


	5. Chapter Five

**Author's Notes:** OKAY NOT COOL. 

I had to reboot my computer. I had finished writing chapter five, and BLOOWEY. And everything's gone and now the color is at 16 and apparently is staying there until... Auhh, who cares. It's gone and my screen sucks, I'd better get used to it...

I'll just try to rewrite this as best I can in notepad, and hope I can get the Microsoft Word to work... Not for readers, even. Just because I want to complete this story because I like it. That makes it nice for me.. Not that I don't want reviews! I love reviews! I TREASURE YOU REVIEWS AND KEEP THEM TUCKED AWAY IN MY PANTS.

AND THESE ARE MY GIANT PIMPIN' PANTS SO YOU CAN ALWAYS GIVE MORE REVIEWS.

* * *

Fer leaned up against one of the posts that connected the electric fence that enclosed the buildings. Normally, at this time, he would be breaking it open to reveal the control panel, hacking into it, and forcing a small section of the fence to short while he snuck out to his hill, but the workers already there, mapping out the site.

_They are taking his hill._

They weren't Irken workers, but a conquered slave race. They were odd things, with six arms, spiked tails, and jet packs attached under their bellies. They way they hovered around made them look like insects.

Parasites.

"They can't be here... it's illegal..." Fer mumbled. Some part of his brain was trying to point out that it wasn't illegal for them to be here, but he couldn't focus on it.

_'Because it's not my brain, but the Pak.'_

Fer grabbed his antennae and pulled down. He wanted out of here, away from these people, he wanted them _off_ his Irk, he wanted these _gates_ gone, this Pak destroyed. He collapsed on the ground, curling up on the concrete.

He wanted to feel _sand_...

"This... isn't fair... I want out of.. here..."

His eyes closed, and he remained on the concrete.

It seemed hours passed before Nyon came to look for his partner and found him curled up on the ground. Nyon thought Fer only resting, roused him, and began to lead him back to their quarters. Fer tried to stay in pace, but failed, his body cold and unresponsive to what he was trying to tell it to do. Nyon began talking, but the words echoed in and out of his head. Fer caught something about Stek, and tried to force himself to listen.

"...She said you had been kinda out of it lately, and I thought it'd be refreshing if the three of us snuck up the hill to catch a puppet show-"

Before he could react, Nyon was grabbed and pinned painfully against the outside factory wall. He opened his eyes only to see Fer's right before him, wide and crazed, a hazy pink color. Nyon moved his eyes down to Fer's lips as they began to move with hardly any sound, Fer keeping him pinned to the wall.

"The... hill... it's mine.. you can't... It's mine... you are just like..."

A look of shock splashed across Fer's face, and he released Nyon, taking a few steps back and looking ashamed. "I.. you.. th... Y-You came to look for me, right? Am I in trouble?"

Nyon didn't know what to say. His partner had been acting weird lately, but he didn't expect him to suddenly be assulting him and then behaving like some infant trainee, wringing his hands nervously and avoiding eye contact. "If we don't make it back soon, we'll both be in trouble." Fer once again followed Nyon, snaking between clusters of factory buildings along simple concrete sidewalks.

There was a gap of silence after they resumed walking before Fer broke it. "You know they have tracking devices."

"What?"

"The Paks. You could have easily hacked into a basic computer system to find me. Did you?"

"No, it would have been a waste of energy. Besides, wandering around while trying to find you is something I don't do very often, so it's fun. Work's been so hectic lately! Hey, I really think you, me and Stek should go see that puppet show. We'll try and go at a time when not everyone will be crowed at the windows, okay?" Nyon turned to look back at Fer with a smile, but he saw only Fer on his hands and knees, panting.

"Fer!" Nyon cried, hurrying over anxiously. He wasn't sure what exactly he should do. "Hey, Fer, can you make it back? Um, if there's some problem with your Pak, I might be able to do some minor repairs.."

"_The Pak is the problem..._" Fer panted out, not looking up.

Nyon became nervous. If there was somehow a total malfunction with Fer's Pak, there was little Nyon could do. It would certainly explain all of Fer's odd conduct. "C'mon, Fer, you can do it... Think puppets, Fer. _Puppets_."

Fer laughed. It was only a second before his stopped and let his face become slack and stoic. He looked up at Nyon with vacant eyes. "Hold hands with me, Nyon."

There was a pause. "What?"

"I want you to take my hand."

"I... No."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to," Nyon said defiantly. Fer's actions were unpredictable and it was making him... scared.

"I'm your superior, right? This is an order."

"You're barely my superior," Nyon said, rolling his eyes.

"That's okay. If you took my hand for that reason, anyway..." Fer looked down, and Nyon stared, confused. He had never seen someone looking so depressed. Nyon had felt disappointment in the time he had lived, but Fer looked genuinely... _sad_.

"Oh.. L.. Go. Right now." Nyon held out his hand, not knowing if what he had said had been appropriate. Fer beamed as he stood up and linked his fingers with Nyon's, and the two of them continued.

There was another gap of silence as they resumed walking that was also broken by Fer.

"Do you like Stek?"

"What?" Nyon was stupefied. He had never held hands before, and had never seen someone look so happy, either. He couldn't grasp the question.

"Do you prefer her," Fer asked again, "Do you want to see her more than the other workers?"

Nyon refused to answer, becoming all too conscious of Fer's hand in his.

Fer's actions were so strange, Nyon wasn't sure how to process them. Beginning with his search for his partner, these were all things he had never even thought about. He had never taken someone's hand for no reason, and Fer's touch was sending odd tingles up his arm through his glove. The questions Fer was asking were cutting straight to a part of Nyon that he didn't even know existed. Why had he even gone to look for Fer, anyway?

"I like you, and I like Stek. Each of you has your own, unique reactions. You are different from everyone else."

"All the mechanics are the same."

"We have different heads."

"None of us are different." Nyon felt like shouting, but he didn't know why.

"But you keep partnering with me," Fer began to point out. "You partner with me lately more than other workers, and I partner with you often too. To each other, we are different."

"None of us are different!" Nyon wanted to let go of Fer's hand more than anything else, but a part of him wouldn't allow it.

"I am different," Fer said, squeezing Nyon's hand. "I am different, so to me, my favorites are different. But you and Stek are still puppets. I am the only one who is not a puppet."

Nyon didn't know what to say. He couldn't wrap his head around the things Fer was saying to him.

Fer's strange behavior, to Nyon, was obviously caused by a Pak malfunction. The Pak was fine, but in essence, it was Fer who was malfunctioning. His mental despise for the Pak had grown until he began to physically reject the Pak, even as it was attached to his body and brain. The strain had begun to push Fer towards insanity, Fer completely unknowing.

"So I think going to see a puppet show with Stek and you would be nice."

* * *

Thank god for document manager! My Microsoft still isn't working right.


	6. Chapter Six

**Author's Notes:** I OWN NOTHING, YOU STINK-BRAINED PLOOSHADOOKAS! I OWN DOOODIEEEE!

Okay. This story will range somewhere between ten and thirteen chapters long. That's not much of an accomplishment because the chapters are so short, and my writing sucks, but whatever.

* * *

Fer tried to stay focused on his work. He really did. If he felt his mind wander, he looked to Nyon, who was assembling one of the window frames on the runner, or to Stek, who had engrossed herself in a mass of wires and fuses. When he and Nyon had returned to the group from their walk, the three had agreed to sneak out once the puppet theatre was built.

That had been four weeks ago, and now Fer's blissful, naked hill had a stiff building squatting upon it. He really wanted to go with his two favorite Irkens and peer through the windows and giggle and have a jolly time, but some part of his mind was cracking. Every day, it was harder to concentrate on work. The only thing that had gotten him this far was the thought of being again on his hill, naked and alone or otherwise. That hill was special. He knew that even with his Pak on, it would make him feel better, more collected.

_'And I'm going to have fun,'_ he told himself. He wasn't one hundred percent sure if he was talking out loud or saying it in his head. _'I'm going with Nyon and Stek and we'll have a fun time. A Fun Time. Just us.'_ Fer smiled. His favorites were the best people.

Because of his own anxiousness to be around them, Stek, Nyon and Fer had been spending a lot of time together the last couple weeks. He and Nyon never again held hands, and Fer restrained himself from more nonsense-babbling most of the time, so it seemed okay between them. And while the three mostly just sat in silence or chatted about something inane, Fer was happy.

Trying to work, Fer focused on the sheet of metal in front of him. What was he supposed to be doing again...?

He picked up a wrench. He was supposed to be doing something with bolts, right? He didn't remember what... Maybe he could fake it. Make it look like he was working.

Fer closed his eyes, gripping the wrench. He wanted freedom from this place, a naked hill that belongs to him alone.. A place he can take Stek and Nyon to.

Fer hugged the wrench, and cooed "Escapism!"

"Worker," a small shock was felt through the Pak. Fer turned around. It was a security droid. A tazer hitting him through the Pak cut down on the shock a lot, but it still made Fer's back sting. "Return to work immediately."

Fer's large, red eyes were unusually clear and vapid. He blinked them, slowly, and piped, "Bimble?"

The droid tapped his Pak with the tazer again. "Worker," it ordered, "Return to your task."

Fer closed his eyes. "But I don't care if the sky is polluted by ships. My task is to become one with and protect this Great Irk." Ah! And to on his hill was so much better! Better than this moment of clarity. Or was he...?

The droid began to once again move forward with the tazer, saying "Worker", but it was cut off as Fer struck the droid with the wrench. It whizzed across the room with such speed that it emitted a small explosion as it crashed in the wall.

This made all the other mechanics stare. Fer was no longer blending in and staying focused.

_'I can feel it,'_ he thought, _'I can feel it.'_ Fer could feel all the little cords in his brain snapping like a harp, all the cords connecting his muscles breaking apart. It was like his whole body was a fine hair, and it was running into a chain saw.

_'All the strings snapping...' _If that was true... then there was nothing tying him to this place! He was free from the buildings and laws! He no longer belonged here! He wasn't a puppet!

"_All the strings snapping... _So I am no longer a puppet..." There was a snapping sound and a hiss that echoed through out the silent factory. The only noise was the gasps of some of the Irkens, Stek's terrified squeal, and Nyon's own whisper of "No," as Fer's Pak clattered to the floor behind him.

Fer stretched his arms, a happy smile on his face. He hadn't felt this good in _weeks_.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Author's Notes:** Is anyone reading this anymore?

I got three nice reviews on this story, which I treasure, but at the seventh chapter now it gets depressing.

PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS.

Did anyone else see that?

SODOMY.

I suppose not.

Anyway, No, I don't own jack. Seriously, do I have to keep saying this? Like between the last chapter and this one I became the richest person on earth and bought out all the rights to Invader Zim. I do own Fer, Nyon, and Stek though-- I don't know who'd want them, anyway. And, you know, the plot. But it's sorta weak. So I don't think anyone wants that, either.

I'm also going away for a couple weeks, so the next chapter won't be up for a while. If you happen to stumble upon this and wonder where the next chapter is.

* * *

Fer was quickly assaulted by security droids on all sides. His arms were pinned to his torso, his legs bound. Free from the Pak that he despised, Fer had started thinking clearer, and suddenly began to realise the gravity of his situation.

Looking at the stunned expressions on his co-worker's faces, a feeling of dread began to collect in the middle of his squigglyspooch. _'Shit.'_

Fer's co-workers continued their stunned silence as the droids suddenly lifted him up and began to take Fer away.

The ride dazed Fer. The droids darted at a speed he thought impossible for the squat robots, and he found that they could do more than hover, but actually managed to jet over buildings and take a short cut to the control brain headquarters. Removing one's own Pak willingly was considered one of the highest offenses, and Fer was sure that's where he was going.

As the droids lowered as a cluster towards the large building, the giant entrance doors opened automatically, and they sped by all the other Irkens inside so fast Fer hardly had time to catch a glimpse at what the inside looked like. The cluster turned down a hallway, jetted toward panel, and signaled some lights to it before tube opened from the center of the panel and sucked Fer in.

After about a minute of bumping his way down the tube, Fer flew out into an open room and landed with a thud on a platform. Looking up, he was face-to-... wrinkle with the control brain. The Tallests each stood on either side.

"Mechanic Fer," Tallest Red began, "You are accused of damaging a class-B security droid and... removing your Pak." Red said the last part slowly, looking up at Fer from the holographic report, staring at Fer's naked back.

"Why would you even do that?" Tallest Purple asked, annoyed by the whole situation. "I mean, I understand the droid thing, they're aggravating little poopies, but you'll die without your Pak!"

"In fact, why aren't you dying now?" Red asked, "According to this, you removed your Pak just under twenty minutes ago. You should've stopped living after five."

Fer clenched his fists, biting his lower lip. Chances are he would be terminated anyway, so he might as well not hold anything back.

"You're fools. All three of you."

"Your life's work will be populating and taking other planets, and you treat your home planet like a waste of space! I'm the only one that is different from the other Irkens. I'm the only one that cares about my homeland, and I'm the only one that can hear the heart of the planet. I can go this long without my Pak, because it's not the first time I've felt the freedom of going without it- I spent every free moment on _my_ hill as Irkens should truly be until you- you _dumbasses_ built a _puppet theatre_ on it. On my hill. You say it's high treason simply because I've refused to be a slave."

"You're crazy," Purple quipped.

"Shut up," ordered the control brain. "Mechanic Fer, you will continue to defy your orders as a member of your Irken race?"

Fer looked at the brain. He probably didn't know what he was getting in to. "...Yes."

"And how long can you go without your Pak?"

Fer now was weary. "...About... an hour."

"Until you pledge and oath to your race, Tallests, and control brain, you are banned from reinstalling your Pak. You are not allowed to return to your quarters without your Pak and will be quarantined here. That is all."

Fer gulped. Pledging an oath to these buffoons wasn't even an option. How could he manage to survive without a Pak?

The Tallests began to leave, and a tube rushed out from another wall and sucked Fer up before he could do or say anything more. After another bumpy minute, he was spat out in a hallway, landing in front of a guard.

"Follow me," The guard instructed. Fer did as he was told.

After a long walk down a seemingly endless hallway, the guard stopped at one of the many doors. "These will be your new quarters. You are not allowed pass this doorway." There was a pause as Fer looked at him. "...There's a snack machine inside."

Fer walked in, the door shutting behind him. The room was nice. Ugly, but nice. There was a round bed-looking thing in the center. Half of one wall was taken up by a giant snack machine, the other half taken up by something Fer couldn't identify. Other than that, and a small, barred window looking over the planet, the room was empty.

Fer sat on the bed. He knew it was only for decoration. Irkens didn't really _need_ sleep. Just like they didn't need to eat. The Pak kept them living without really living.

Fer sighed. Not that he would live long, anyway. Once he went over his time limit, his body would cease functioning. But Fer refused to submit to the control brain's demand.

Fer curled his fingers around the red bed sheets, then released them. It didn't really matter. He just wished he was dying on the sand, not this material.

That sounded nice. Dying on his planet. Dying _for_ his planet. It sounded... romantic? What did he know.

Fer fell back on the bed, curled up, and closed his eyes, waiting for death to come.


	8. Chapter Eight

Sorry this took so long. I was on a trip and my computer was broken when I came home and yada yada yada. I got a couple nice reviews while I was gone, so I feel bad about updating so late. I had hoped to finish this story before school started up again, and now I'm not sure I'll get it done.

I'm chewing gum while I type this. I hate gum. My dog it attacking me and computers are currently taking up half my living room. I'm on a laptop and I hate laptop keyboards. I'm supposed to be getting ready to paint my room and I have done nothing all day. This laptop may crash any second. It's muggy, smells bad outside and from my spot on my back porch, looks like rain. It feels like a good time for writing fan fiction. I like it.

I still own nothing, though.

* * *

Fer _hurt_.

The pain he felt when he went a few minutes longer without his pak than he should have was nothing like this. It had been over an hour since the first spasm, and it was just getting worse by the second. Shocks of pain sliced through his body, jerking and flailing out of his control, and Fer screamed. He screamed as loud as he could. He screamed until his throat was dry. He screamed in agony until he couldn't even force a single sound from his throat.

It wasn't going away. He wasn't dying. Before, Fer had been indifferent about death. But now it was all he wanted. Anything to free him from this all-consuming pain.

Yet even when he prayed for it, even when all thought vanished because he was drowning in pain, he didn't die. A night passed, filled only with his screams. As did another identical day and night. And another. And another.

A week went by before Fer could even think again. He had been falling in and out of a sham of sleep for days, but it was the first time Fer woke up and felt like he was waking. The pain was still there, eating at him, but it was no longer getting worse.

Fer looked at himself. There was a new discomfort, though. One in his chest that was becoming evermore bothersome the more Fer became aware of it. Fer looked around, an unfamiliar feeling of panic in him.

Fer's eyes caught the snack machine, and all of a sudden it made sense, and he all but lunged for it, weakly throwing his fist at any button he might chance to hit. A couple soda cans and baggies fell from the chute. Fer shredded the food baggies, shoving the snacks into his mouth, barely pausing to chew before shoving more fistfuls in. He fumbled with a soda can for a moment before the top popped and he chugged it. He chugged the second soda, too. And the third. But the discomfort didn't go away. It growled for more.

It seemed like hours passed where Fer could do nothing but eat and then eat more. He began getting drowsy, and finally, still trying to shove a handful of orange Crusty-O's into his mouth, he passed out.

After a few hours of dreamless sleep, Fer awoke again on the floor to something jabbing his face. He was too tired to open his eyes, and merely moaned in complaint. There was a sudden jolt.

"Ow!" Fer cried, opening his eyes and rolling over so he could massage his face. The guard stood over him. "Sorry, didn't mean to kick you that hard. Just checking to see if you were alive. You had stopped screaming, I thought you finally kicked the bucket." Fer sat up, staring at him, confused. The guard had an airhead-like demeanor that threw Fer off guard. "What're you doing on the floor?"

Fer looked down at himself, and took a moment to get a good look at the room. In his frenzy of pain, Fer had torn the place to shreds. The walls had scratch marks and the sheets were all in pieces. Things Fer had no memory of doing. Fer's clothes were also stained beyond recognition, in blood, fluids and orange smears.

Fer looked back up at the guard and smiled, giving him two thumbs up. "The life of a martyr is hard, but only I can live with it!"

Surprisingly, the guard laughed. "You're strange." He left Fer alone in his mess.

He painfully climbed on his bed, curling up and shuddering. He felt sore and beaten. He felt like he wanted to end it all. He felt miserably alone. He felt dirty and crazy. He felt unusually cold and hot at the same time all over his body. He felt like he wanted to sleep but wanted to do something more.

_'But it doesn't matter what I'm feeling,'_ he thought, the mere act of thinking making him tired once more, _'because I have still managed to live.'_

* * *

Yeah, I told you the chapters would be short. Deal with it. I'm close to the end and will be stuffing more things into the next chapter. There will be three or four really short bloops after that. 


	9. Chapter Nine

OH BAH GOOBLE. Okay. Sorry this took so long! We had some computer troubles…. And, you know, I'm lazy…. Here you go. Hopefully after this I can continue spitting out chapters on time.

As always, thanks for the kind reviews. And I don't own this. u.u

* * *

Fer looked around the room in despair. He had taken off his clothes and fashioned an outfit out of the clean shreds of the red sheets. He had picked up and thrown away and cleaned what he could of his mess. He was no longer hungry or tired.

But he was _bored_.

Pacing around his room, Fer realized he was in a prison. And he was going mad. On a snap decision, Fer opened the door and peered out.

The guard peered back down at Fer. For a while they didn't say anything, but then Fer quipped, "Hi."

"Hi."

"Is it okay for me to hang out the door like this? Should I go back inside?"

"Nah, it's okay."

"You want to talk? Aren't you bored?"

"Yeah."

Fer pulled his head into the room as a couple robots zipped by, then leaned against the doorframe. "So… something going on? They were in a hurry."

"They're holding a convention," the guard said slowly, "to prevent others from acting like you. You know, remind the masses Paks are great."

Fer nearly burst out laughing. "You're serious?"

The guard chuckled. "Yeah. They're moving them in from the factories right now. You can see them from your window, you know."

Leading Fer in to the room, the guard pointed down, through the window bars. Fer's former co-workers were marching past just outside.

"I thought I was higher up than this. Guess I'm not much of a priority, huh?"

"That's why I was assigned to you." Fer turned to give the guard a cross look, but the guard seemed to remember he had a job to do, and wandered back outside. Fer looked back out the window, feeling lonely. Below him, in the crowd, he saw a splotch of purple, and squinted.

Stek was staring up at him, though as soon as she realized Fer was staring back, she adverted her eyes. But she kept on glancing up, for quick seconds when she thought he wouldn't see.

Moved, Fer began looking for Nyon. It was only a minute before Fer found him, Nyon gazing up at Fer with intense, expressionless eyes. Fer frowned, leaning his face against the bars. Nyon was mad at him? What for? Was Nyon really too much like the others?

Nyon began to make a small movement. Fer watched as Nyon's arm lifted, and his hand formed a thumbs up.

Now elated, Fer returned a gesture. He watched as Nyon rejoined the group, and then disappeared from view behind some buildings. It didn't matter that every other Irken was going to a place where they would be trained to hate him. It didn't matter Fer was locked away in some boring tower, his captors hoping he would surrender or die. He couldn't have been happier.

But that was a lie. Fer's upbeat mood was only lifted into bliss later that day, when Fer was devising a game with empty soda cans, and the factory lights, visible from his window, were out. His room was dark, but in his position, Fer didn't mind.

There was a clatter outside, and Fer moved to the window. Before he could look out, there was a metallic clunk, and a figure rose until it reached Fer's window, who backed away in surprise when three of four long, skinny legs forced their way though the bars.

Fer gasped. "Nyon!" Without thinking, Fer began to tug at the bars. A leg gently moved Fer aside, and another lit a flame from its tip and began to heat the top and bottom of the center bars. Then there was a soft grinding of an Irken tool against the heated metal, a patient moment as the legs adjusted themselves, then a small gloved fist tugged the bars out and Nyon tumbled into the room.

"Nyon!" Fer cried again, as Nyon's spider legs retracted. "What do you think you're doing! You'll be-"

Nyon stood up gruffly. "Here," he ordered, "Stek wanted you to have it." Fer looked down at the blue hat, shocked still.

Nyon was now looking at Fer strangely. "What are you wearing?"

Fer laughed at this. "My clothes got ruined. I had to make new ones."

But Nyon was now looking at Fer's naked feet. "You got rid of your gloves. And your boots. Do you want mine? They're fairly good boots-"

"No, no," Fer laughed. "Someone might be suspicious if your boots went missing, and you'll need them more than me. I'm just sitting around in here." Fer wanted to hug Nyon, but he held back. "How did you get here?"

"Oh, it's a short, boring story revolving around ghost robots and marmosets," Nyon shrugged.

"I don't care, just tell me. It's so boring in here," Fer begged.

"Um, Fer…" Nyon shifted his foot, trying to find the words. "I actually wanted to ask.. why… Why you took your Pak off. Is this really worth it?"

Fer leaned against the wall, thinking. Nyon leaned against the window, waiting. The darkness seemed to grow in the silence. "Well, I can't say it's been worth it," Fer began, pulling the cap on, "but it's been my decision. That's important to me. So I'll follow through on it. I'll take whatever happens as it comes."

"Just because it's your decision? Does that really matter?" Nyon asked, tugging at his uniform.

"Yes. I'm just different, I guess. It's okay."

"But it's not okay! You're dying! Just put the Pak on!"

"I don't expect you to understand."

"Why are you trying so hard to get away from us! You said Stek and I were your favorites, but you'd rather die than stay with us!" Nyon blurted out. He pushed himself backward onto the windowsill as he yelled, though Fer did not change his reaction.

"You might be my favorites, but this is bigger than me."

Nyon tottered on the window ledge, looking like he was torn between toppling outside and never seeing Fer again, and toppling back inside and hugging Fer forever. But then a voice floated in through the door, which made Nyon's decision for him.

"While doing my routine check on the prisoner, it sure would be a bad thing to find an unauthorized visitor in the room…"

Nyon frowned, then leaned back and fell out. Fer could hear the metallic scrapping and clanking as Nyon's spider legs caught him. Fer's guard entered a moment later, grinning. Fer grinned back.

"Seems you did have a visitor," the guard commented, staring at the window. "Thought you might've gone nuts and started talking to yourself, but wanted to make sure. Bring you anything?"

Fer grabbed at his head. "My visitor brought me a hat from my love."

The guard blinked. "Your love?"

"Nevermind."

"Well, anyway… Are you leaving?" The guard asked, peering at Fer's face, trying to read it.

"Leave?" Fer repeated, not understanding.

"You know… escape." The guard's eyes were glittering.

"Oh!" There was an odd pause. "Well… I wasn't thinking of that. It's the same situation outside or in."

The guard leaned close, and it was apparent that a secret was just dancing on his lips. "Well… if you wanted to… I know where you can go."

It was so rare to find a place not under the Tallest's eyes, Fer became interested. "Where?"

"The forest."

Fer couldn't believe what he was hearing. He drank it up like a thirsty child. "Where is it? All of Irk is populated, right?"

"Toward the factories, past the theatre," Fer felt a longing for his old hill at this, "there's nothing but blackness. At certain times of the year, you see black spots on the horizon. Hollow trees, one of the first things Irkens traded for when we stretched our commercial borders beyond our planet. And Irkanes. It's the last place where irkanes naturally grow. You can drink sap and eat irkanes. No shelter in sandstorms, but no surveillance, either."

"None? Then how do you know about this?"

The guard was grinning again. "I'm a snoop!"

Fer leaned back, soaking in the information. "What… if I escape?"

"You'll be free to live as you want."

"…What about you? You'll have a hard time explaining how you lost a prisoner."

"I'll get reprimanded, is all," the guard lied with a smile on his face.

"Will they look for me?"

"Not if you run fast enough."

Fer felt a chord being plucked in his heart. "I'll have to leave Stek and Nyon."

The guard paused, then took a breath. "They're your co-workers, right? I'll give them a message. You know, convince them to meet up with you."

Fer looked up, confused. He didn't know what he wanted to do.

"We're different, aren't we? That's why you're doing this for me."

The guard nodded. "I've never taken off my Pak."

Fer was once again hungry for information. "So how are you like this? So free to decide things like this?"

The guard laughed. "Maybe the Pak can't control every part of us. Maybe, even under its influence, we're more than that."

Fer was frowning. "Maybe."

Leaning forward, the guard gathered Fer in his arms. Fer gasped; he had never been hugged before. "Or maybe it's you. Maybe you can just inspire people. Either way, you are my favorite.

"Now get going, before they realise the window is broken."

* * *

AUGH. Not my best writing, but HERE! EAT IT LIKE THE CARNIVOROUS PENISES YOU ARE. 


	10. Chapter Ten

**Author's Notes:** Okay, first of all, the staff that the guard is wielding here, that was not some cheap throw-in because he needed a weapon. To me, he was always holding it, I just never found a convenient place to mention it. But in the show, all the guards have those staff things, right? To hit and tazer people? Well, it's always been there. Seriously, I have drawings of him from three months ago holding that staff. I'm not just lazy.

The only thing I own is gross flavors of potato chips.

:huggles Wrath of Raksheen and Zim's Fan:

* * *

Fer ran.

His guard ran alongside him. Of course, that other machine in his room- it had been another security measure. As soon as he put a foot out the window, charged cords shot out to restrain him. Fer was lucky that while the room had been designed to hold an Irken prisoner, that machine had not been reformatted specifically for him; the cords that shot out were meant for latching on to his Pak, and could not do so as he hung from the remains of the bars over his window. But the computer, trying to solve the problem, marked it off as an error and went for the only thing with a Pak in the room- Fer's guard. He decided against lying about the escaped prisoner, and instead leapt out of the room, grabbing Fer in one arm as he dropped out the window and sending his spider legs out as they fell, down, down, the legs catching them with a jerk leaving that left the two a little too close to the concrete.

Fer ran.

The machine also sent out a signal to other guards in the vicinity- and it hadn't been long before they were being chased by what seemed like every guard in the immediate area. For a while they managed to keep a good distance between themselves and their hunters, scuttling along quickly toward the factories while Fer hugged his guard to secure himself from dropping. But the higher-up guards had lasers equipped with their tazer-staffs, and one good shot was all it took to break one of the metal legs in half and send the pair crashing to the ground. Looking back Fer realised that he might have been able to reconnect the leg, if they had only three minutes or so, but they really did not have any time at all. Fer had scarcely helped push his guard up and standing before they both took off again on foot, not even pausing to make sure they weren't hurt.

Fer realised running the whole way to the forest may not be an option; they had not even left the parameters and he was already tiring. Mechanics did not need physical training, and sitting around in a room for the past month did not help things. His feet were sore, and Fer was beginning to wish he had taken Nyon's boots when he offered them. And the rest of his outfit was not helping, either: Scraps of cloth tied together was not an ideal running uniform.

There were a couple flashes as lasers fired, missing on both sides, but just barely. There was a distinct pounding of feet behind them, and both Fer and his guard turned to see that one of their subjugators had now run faster than the group and was almost on top of them. Fer looked ahead. The factories were still too far away.

"Keep going!" Fer's guard yelled, stopping and turning around, holding out his tazer staff in a defensive manner. Fer panicked, and stopped just after him. "What do you mean! Don't be retarded! We have to keep going! They'll kill you!"

"I can fight him, don't worry. And I'll just slow them down a bit. Go get Stek and Nyon and just get to the forest!"

Fer began jogging backwards, afraid that if he stopped moving for too long he wouldn't be able to keep himself going.

"Tell me your name!" Fer shouted louder this time, since the other guard that had been closing in on them had brought his staff down on Fer's guard. He managed to block with his own staff, and they were now fighting.

Fer's guard made a noise, like he was about to shout his reply, but as he did he ducked under the offending guard's staff, who twisted it around and stabbed straight through Fer's guard, just under the Pak. There was a horrible moment when Fer stood, now still with shock, with his eyes frozen on his guard's wide-eyed, paling face, a trickle of yellow-green blood beginning to drip from his lip; then a worse moment when the offending guard flipped on the tazer, and Fer's guard was spasaming as he filled with electricity, his form clothed in a blue-white glow. Then there was the sickening sound as his body slipped off of the staff as the offending guard pulled it up, and the body dropped to the ground, making a horrible thudding sound and allowing a small puddle of blood to collect beneath it.

Fer watched, a couple meters away, with pure horror, trying to come up with a logical sign that his guard had lived through that. But as the guard Fer's own had been battling bent over to check his vital signs, and the rest of the group that had been chasing them closed in, Fer turned around and ran without another thought, forcing everything out besides Stek and Nyon, Stek and Nyon..

His feet were moving faster, and he somehow managed to make it to the factory in under a minute since the horrific sight he witnessed, ignoring every pain and exhaustion he felt until he burst in through the large doors. He skidded across the floor amid gaps and shouts, jumped over some equipment, and spotted Stek and Nyon in a corner, where they had been trying to talk in secret before Fer burst in.

"We're going!" Fer panted, and Stek and Nyon looked at him with surprise.

"Going?" Nyon repeated blankly, trying to grasp the situation.

"Yes, we're leaving this place! There's a forest on Irk and we're going there!"

Stek stood up and began to move forward. "Where's a forest on Irk? Are you in trouble?"

The question had hardly dropped from her lips when the pack of guards burst in, and Fer cursed, gestured to Stek and Nyon, and began running again. The two instantly went after him, eight mechanical legs clattering as they rushed after through the opposite set of doors.

Fer saw the faint glow of the electric fence, but he suddenly realised he had no idea how long it would take to short out parts of the fence without his Pak; he was also becoming increasingly worried of being obvious about where he was intending to go.

He looked back. Nyon and Stek were just behind him, and just behind them, his captors. Nyon reached out a gloved hand, but he was too far away and Fer would not stop running. When he turned back around, he saw another group of guards were coming from in front, and Fer cursed and dodged between two buildings.

Sprinting down sidewalks, Fer felt a new burst of energy. While a part of him felt bad for dragging Stek and Nyon in to this, he was encouraged by their presence. If he could find an opening to get to a fence post, one of them could break in and let all three out to the forest, but they would need to also lose the guards so they wouldn't figure out where they were going. It would probably be safer to hide out in some abandoned buildings instead of going straight there, though it would take longer to finally get away..

As they ran past factories, quarters and eventually made it to a section of tall buildings run by personnel, Fer, lost in thought and exhaustion, barely recognized the new batch of guards coming at them to cut them off. Swerving to the side, Fer made a snap decision and ran in to a building.

It was a building with a low security, and an elevator, two things Fer was grateful for as many red eyes looked at him with confusion. Making up a half-baked idea that he could somehow get to the roof and then sneak down the other side of the building, Fer threw himself inside. He randomly punched buttons until the doors closed, armed guards visible through the crack running towards him as he sat down on the floor, panting.

Fer looked up. Twenty-six floors. He had twenty-six minutes to think of a plan. Fer reached up, though he would have preferred passing out and sleeping for a long, long time, and hit the top button, then balled up on the floor. His head was spinning, he could feel it pounding almost as much as he could feel his squigglyspooch pounding... all the blood in him was rushing around so fast he though he would explode...

Fer put a balled fist to his forehead, tears at his eyes. Of course, there was no way his guard had lived through that... there was no way...

There was a sudden thudding, and Fer crawled over and looked out over the edge of the floor. The wall with the door and buttons was regular and flat, but the rest was circular and viewed outside of the building. It was protected with a strong form of nearly-invisible plastic, and charged with the same technology that protected most public entryways and was used in the electric fences. It made the open side of the elevator impenetrable.

Below, a large gathering of guards were firing lasers at the elevator. Fer knew that he wasn't a high priority, but any break in Irken security was an important issue to be dealt with. He spotted Nyon and Stek in the crowd, looking up at him with anxiousness. He looked back at the screen. There was a red number nine looking back at him.

There was a sudden jerk, and Fer was thrown back against the wall. The elevator was now making a horrible grinding noise as it rose, moving slower and slower. Fer realised they were shooting at the exposed track, and with another lurch that caused Fer to slide in to a corner, that it was going to fall.

Fer panicked. He wasn't prepared to die like this. He tried to stand, but his legs merely turned to jello, so he crawled over to the wall, pulling back the control panel and diving into the wires. He didn't bother looking for the right ones, but merely ripped at anything he could get his hands on. The screen flickered off at the twelve floor. The lights in the elevator went out next. Then, as Fer tugged out a fistful of thick cords, the electricity in the plastic panel shorted out. The plastic, not used to the sudden lack of charge, bent and cracked. Fer forced himself standing as a couple laser shots easily snapped through the weakened material, and Fer took a breath, and charged.

There was a shattering of plastic, and Fer, a mere bundle of red cloth, dropped amongst the light of red lasers. He didn't think about landing, he didn't even dream of being able to get away when he stopped falling... Dream...

A little blue hat floated off of Fer's head as he landed in a blackness that he sure hadn't been on the ground before...

* * *

Nyon fingered the lining of one of the patches that made up the blue hat. Leaning against the side of such an expansive, seemingly endless building made Nyon feel small and uncomfortable. He would occasionally glance toward the walkway, to see if Stek had exited yet. He would have waited by the doors, but he had been ordered to go straight to his quarters, and he had to sneak to remain here as it was.

Feeling a bit foolish, Nyon first brought the hat closer, then wrapped his arms around it as he leaned his face on the warm cloth. There was something there... something familiar.. Fer's scent. Fer had an individual scent. Nyon never noticed this sort of thing before.

Nyon trembled. Fer... where was he? Stek had caught Fer as he fell from fourteen stories up, when Nyon was too terrified to work up the strength to shove his way past the guards. It had been better that she caught him, anyway- she had been closer to the front, and made up some lie about accidentally being shoved in the way by a guard. Both Stek and Nyon had to do a lot of lying- They had chased after Fer thinking they could help capture the subverted one, Nyon had reached out his hand trying to grab him...

How did things end up like this? Nyon was brought in front of the Control Brain, only to have to lie. Both he and Stek knew that there was a place Fer thought they could hide, but they would not be able to help him get there if they were imprisoned, too.

But where was Fer? Where had they taken him? What were they going to do with him?

How had things ended up like this?

Nyon whimpered and hugged the hat tighter. This was an impossible situation. Would Fer be mad at them for lying? For not standing up and facing their opponents as he had? For attempting to melt back in as puppets...

He wiped some of the liquid away from his eyes. Did that mean... the thoughts he had been having were not puppet thoughts?

Looking up over the edge of blue cloth, Nyon spotted Stek walking slowly back toward their section of the property. Nyon immediately jumped to his feet and ran after her.

"Stek! Did they believe you? Did you find out anything about Fer?"

She shook her head. "He's been in critical care for a while. Yesterday must have taken a lot out of him. He's scheduled to be brought before the control brain sometime in the next few days, they won't say when."

"Ok..." Nyon said, taking a step back from her.

"We'd better get going. We might have to start working again right away."

"Yeah. You're right." Nyon had almost forgotten about his duties as a mechanic. But did it really matter? Did he even make a difference?

_'Fer, could you tell me? If these are puppet thoughts or..._'

Nyon looked at the building behind him with discontent and worry. Fer had better come out of there soon...

* * *

Fer felt the restraints before he opened his eyes. When he did open them, he saw a guard looking over him with coldness. Indifference.

Fer turned his head in the other direction, hardly able to stare at the uniform. Would they answer if he asked if his guard had survived?

The guard by his bed made a signal, and the computer on the opposite side of the room sent out some cords.

Recognizing that they were for him, Fer sighed. He would have obediently sat up if not for the straps over his shoulders. The guard flipped a switch, and the straps retracted, and the cords immediately had Fer in a tight grip. A chute opened in the wall, and Fer was released into it, bumping down the tube until he landed on the platform in front of the Control Brain, and the Tallests on either side.

Fer looked up at it, his whole body sore and his head empty of any care. It seemed fairly futile now, resisting. Did he really think he could hide in a forest? They would always find you. The grip of the Irken empire... they ruled. Did Fer really think he could escape, so outmatched as he was?

"Mechanic Fer!" The brain seemed angry now. Annoyed he had to waste so much time on this.

"Mechanic Fer, you are responsible for destroying an elevator in sector eleven and corrupting a guard of the Irken Empire. You are also charged with trying to escape from your containment though you did not comply with the terms to which you were sentenced, and fleeing from Irken officers. Is this clear?" Red poked the screen from which he was reading off Fer's offenses, and it faded away.

"Meh," was Fer's feeble reply, thumbing the lining of his clothing. So he had been squeezed in to a new uniform. He stripped off a glove, wiggling his fingers. This was an improvement.

Purple was now watching a security video, showing Fer falling from the elevator before the camera dropped along with the elevator. "_This_ is some good footage though. It only would have been better if you went splat at the bottom. Saved us some problems too. See! There?"

Through the shaking and static of the falling camera, Fer could see the small shape that was him crash in to the small shape that, after a moment of squinting, he could see was Stek. Fer might be the only one that could tell that even if she was shoved, she was intending to catch him. Her arms reached out, and Fer, unconscious, fell on top of her and knocked her back. She didn't seem to mind. The camera, which had been dropping too was close enough now to see her relieved face as she wrapped her arms around Fer's sleeping form, before guards ran towards her. But then the elevator had hit the ground, and with a loud sound of crunching metal the video disappeared into snow.

Fer wondered what happened to her. At least he understood why he wasn't dead.

"Enough of this foolishness," The Control Brain commanded. "Mechanic Fer, you are hereby ordered to replace your Pak!"

The cords that shot out of the wall wrapped around Fer's wrists and neck, holding him tight as more cords came out, holding a Pak between them. The cords that came out of the Pak wiggled towards Fer's back. There was a moment of silence where nothing happened.

The Control Brain's computer was emitting a furious static, and the Tallests cried out in surprise, but Fer's apathetic mood only allowed him to feel a little more relief. Fer estimated he had gone over a month without a Pak, and the holes in his back had healed over. Trying to cut more in a grown Irken and installing a Pak would kill him. Fer smiled. He was feeling more relieved by the second. The Pak... he was free from it forever.

"If you can't wear the Pak, you will be terminated," The Control Brain ordered. "Your execution will take place as soon as possible! We're done with trying to deal with you."

Fer's smile didn't fade. He was free... soon he would really be free. No Paks and no brainwashed empire of doom... it really did sound like a nice vacation.

* * *

**Poop:** Another thing- I know Irkens are allergic to water and crying should be physically painful, but when you think about it, they're aliens. For all we know they're weeping liquid mercury. It doesn't have to be water like on earth.

Anyway. Whoo! Chase scenes! This chapter was kinda long for me.

Sorry if this chapter doesn't flow well. I was sick writing the first half, and I had a lot of problems with the dialogue. I hope it doesn't seem too forced.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Author's Notes:** Okay, we're nearing the end now. This super, painfully short chapter, and two more short ones, and we are DONE. I think this is the first time I've really finished a chapter story I started. I'm really glad I'm almost done because... well, I have a short attention span. I'm kinda over writing this. But I still have to color a couple drawings of Fer n' friends, too. That should be more fun.

Goldwolf mentioned that Fer was likeable, which I found funny, because I was aiming more for the angsty-teenager, self-involved sort of thing with him. I didn't want him to cause people to have too much sympathy for him, so I aimed to give him an attitude that sort of annoyed me. You know, the whole 'Down with the man!' 'I'm always right!' 'I'm the only one!' kinda thing. He sorta started to move a bit away from that, but not by much.

I also attempted to start off each chapter with 'Fer'. I'm not sure why. It actually was a challenge sometimes. This is the last chapter I'll be doing that. It would mess with the flow of the story otherwise.

And I should own Invader Zim 'cause I'm just so freaking cool.

* * *

Fer heard voices like someone was yelling at him through a cloud. A thick cloud that messed his hearing up. That would be one magical cloud...

His thoughts disjointed, he tried to move his arms to get himself more comfortable, to no avail. A thick, muscular Irken guard stood on either side, holding his wrists. He knew that in a few minutes, they would let go to tuck him into the handcuffs that were chained to the platform they were standing on. Public execution or not, you didn't want to annoy the highest rank of the Irken defense force by getting their uniforms dirty.

The Tallests hovered on platforms next to him, reading out his complete lists of offenses to the angry mob of workers, Irken and enslaved, and even a few cheering Invaders. Fer knew the Invaders would not have come to the execution of a common criminal unless invited. He knew they were invited for a reason: to help if he even dared think of escaping again.

Fer head their calls for his death without even really hearing them... He saw Jibs shouting and Remz making rude gestures... He saw Yter hissing... Per was nearer, and Fer could make out a few of the words, mostly egging the guards on to hurry up already... All these people Fer had worked with...

And then Fer met the wide, purple eyes, eyes that had secretly loomed over him in his farces of dreams. Liquid was slowly leaking out of them, reminding Fer of stars in the depths of space. He felt himself tugging, just slightly, as he was switched to the handcuffs on the platform, wanting to get closer to those eyes...

Peeling himself away from Stek, Fer easily found Nyon. While Stek had been silently moving closer to the platform, Nyon was in the back, but he was causing quite a ruckus; Fer could make out three robots trying to restrain him as he shouted protests no one noticed, and every few seconds Fer could hear his own name erupt from the hoarse, desperate vocals of his friend.

Fer smiled. It wasn't a happy or an encouraging or a depressing smile; it was just an action. Catching Nyon's eyes, his partner calmed down for a moment, stopping his struggling though the robot guards still clung to him. Fer lifted his hand as far as his restraints would allow, and looking at Nyon directly gave him a thumbs up.

Nyon seemed relieved, and returned it with a happy smile on his face. He must have thought that Fer had come up with an escape plan, though Fer had been thinking of no such things. Moving back, Fer looked at Stek who had known instantly there would be no such escape that Nyon hoped for and that Fer was not going to be smiling much longer. She looked to Fer as though she was trying to cope with his impending death on the very spot, before it even happened.

As Fer looked down upon her trembling form a wave of emotion swept over him, emotion that had been absent far too long. The will and desire and need to live suddenly broke into him and filled up to his very core. _'I can't let it end like this!'_

Had it come a day sooner, he might have stood a chance; but now he could not even move his arms, and as he tried to move his head away a third guard on the platform pressed a button on his tazer staff, and a laser beam grew from the tip. Fer jerked at his chains furiously as the whisker fell swiftly down, making a clean sweep and cutting through his neck without a sound.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**A/N:** Arrrrr our internet shitted out again. I would have typed this sooner but I have to do it at my mom's work.. soo…. Blahhh. Here we go.

* * *

Nyon was still as stone.

Thirteen minutes ago, he had started yelling. Yelling at the cheering idiots who called for Fer's unjust death. Eleven minutes ago, he hit another worker in the head, and robots rushed to restrain him. Ten minutes ago, he had been struggling and calling Fer's name. Two minutes ago, he had received and given another thumbs up to Fer. One minute ago he had begun to think everything would be okay. That Fer would escape and they could run away together. That Fer, Stek and Nyon would all make it out okay together.

But at the present moment Nyon was watching in horror as the green smudge that was Fer's head fell from the body, a purple shaded spray dripping behind it.

It was too unreal. It was not real. This was not real.

It couldn't have been that he…

The robots, sensing the immediate decline in adrenaline and activity in Nyon, released him and scurried off toward some of the rambunctious workers, who were getting over excited at the bloodshed. Nyon dropped to his knees, then fell entirely to the floor. '_This is not real._' He couldn't think, or feel, and as he lay on the cold floor at the back of the crowd, Nyon was not even aware that he even existed. 'That did not happen. Fer is real. This is not real.'

Tears built up in his eyes. Where was Fer now? Fer was coming up with an escape plan. What Nyon had just seen was… not real.

He didn't notice the hand that softly graced his back as he remained on the ground trembling, he couldn't have noticed, but eventually the gentle hands began to move him. Nyon closed his eyes and didn't open them again until he had been forced into a sitting position. A blurry female…

"We need to go," she said. We? Like Stek, Fer, and Nyon needed to go… Oh, wait, could this be Stek?

"F… We… Fer… We need to wait f-for F-Fer…" Nyon gurgled, putting a hand to his head.

Fingers dug into his arms, and sharp words cleared a path through his disjointed mind. "Nyon, we need to go."

Nyon's eyes cleared enough to see that it was Stek holding him upright. Judging from the tears flowing freely from down her face, her vision was probably just as blurry as his was. But her voice was oddly stiff. "Come on. We need to go now."

Nyon dully noticed her scooping up a blue cap, though there was something different about it than the one he was used to, and he was vaguely away of her taking his hand, and then he was blindly led along, still too shaken up to notice what was really going on.

Through hallways, past large sets of doors, outside, inconceivable amounts of starlight reaching his eyes. Up sidewalks and down sidewalks, breaking out past the fence…it all was a blur to Nyon. It wasn't until they stopped moving that he began to collect himself.

Stek stood facing him, the still odd blue cap in her arms. "Fer's…. dead," Nyon said, letting the finality of the word hang in the air, though he said it as if they were going to have a casual conversation.

"I know," Stek replied after a minute had passed. Both Irkens had stood there with their eyes trained on the ground, not in a particularly awkward way, but in a way that made them standing there acceptable. Along with her reply Stek held the cap out, and pulled it back a little.

Nyon realised what was so strange about the cap. It was bloated and stained purple. It was stretched. There was something in it. His thoughts moved in a mechanical, uncomprehending way as Stek revealed that she had been carrying around Fer's severed head.

Nyon's eyes were wide, but he couldn't seem to say anything. It was as though his brain was in overload. Stek had begun to speak. Her voice was as rigid as his thoughts. Nyon couldn't hear was she was saying. There was a buzzing in his ears.

"I couldn't let them have it. They would just launch it out into space or dump it on some trash planet. Fer's thoughts… I couldn't let them have his head."

Stek had finished her speech before the words finally worked their way around Nyon's mind to the point where he could understand what she was saying. The buzzing had begun to lessen a bit as his body became less tense.

"How… No--No one saw you?"

Stek shook her head as she answered, "No one saw me."

"And… Fer's thought's are…?" Nyon was in a disjointed state again, though this one was much more surreal, somehow. Stek was holding Fer's head; it could have been a dream. But Fer did not have a relaxed, sleeping expression, as Nyon, who had never seen death, assumed it would. On the contrary, Fer's eyes were open, wide, his expression frantic. Nyon looked at the ground again, the only choice he had.

"Fer's thoughts were different from everyone else. Fer is different."

Nyon nodded. The whole situation was slowly becoming more fitting. "Thoughts that were not puppet thoughts. Thoughts that needed no outside source. Thoughts that belonged to him alone."

Stek nodded in approval. "Thoughts belonging to someone who did not become a puppet."

"What do you plan to do with him?" Nyon asked, feeling like he was floating somewhere far, far away.

Stek was holding the head close to her. "We're going to give him a burial."

Nyon repeated the word. "Burial…" It sounded strange and foreign on his lips. "…We should probably do it without puppet strings."

He grinned at Stek, who had a strange grinning expression on her face as well. "If only for a minute. When we cover him, we'll do it as ourselves."

Under a lavender sky, at the shallow base of his beloved hill, Fer's favorites buried him in the red sands of Irk, they also having removed their clothes and Paks before the hill as Fer himself had done.

* * *

BAH. You know what? I loved writing this but I just went over and read it again and I don't like it too much at all. Oh well, I'm not changing it now, I hope you like it.

ONE MORE CHAPTER! Please put up with it until the last chapter. Then we're done and you can go eat babies or whatever.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Author's Notes:** I was supposed to be writing a report, but Thomas A. Doody doesn't exist! So I am writing the last chapter while I have internet access.

ZOMG THIRTEEN CHAPTERS BAD LUCK! I don't know. Half of this could be condensed in to one chapter so I don't know if it really counts. Either way, it's the first time I actually finished a chapter story. I think. Well, a decent one.

Geeeez everyone needs to leave me aloooone I'm typing on the computer in the back for a reason. Grown-ups are gross. And technologically inefficient. I'm such a five-year-old. Except I'm not as annoying (I hope).

* * *

In his death Fer saw a dream. 

It was a dream filled with light. The light was too strong for Fer. He felt like he would perish beneath it. He felt like dust beneath it. He didn't feel worthy of something so great.

But then he heard his name, and he knew he had always been worthy. It was not the name 'Fer', which he had always been called, but he knew it was his name just the same. This name was much better, and it suited him far more than Fer, though if asked he would be unable to tell you what it meant. But from the first time he heard it, he knew he was what he was meant to be called. The name resonated inside him.

The light became much more welcoming as soon as he knew himself that he was supposed to be with it. "Who are you?" It was an appropriate question; this light wasn't a thing, it was an entity.

"I am what you wanted."

"Why was I not a puppet?" He felt like it should know.

"Because you did not wish to be a puppet."

He recognized, in the part of him that was still considered consciousness, that neither question had really been answered, but he wasn't annoyed; he would have eternities to figure out the real answers on his own. _This light should not be viewed as a scapegoat,_ he thought, _and should not be treated as a god_. Suddenly the answer hit him, and his bodiless thoughts floated closer into oblivion.

"You're Irk."

Somehow Irk and the soon to come oblivion were the same thing. Or right next to each other. He thought he saw a misty outline of some body in the light that was Irk, and he knew that it was his beloved, his planet, that was speaking to him.

"I am what you devoted yourself to. I am what you always wanted."

"Am I.. dead?" The question sounded weird, like it came out wrong. He was sad he was not alive… but not that sad. More like it made sense, but he didn't want the sense to be there. He didn't want to stop living, because his thoughts were all he had, and if he died and death meant his thoughts died too… he would not be able to be with Irk.

"You will come to me, no matter what life you take. There is no relief from the destiny you chose. You chose to stay with your planet Irk, no matter what.

"Does that mean only in death I can be with you?" Death was becoming a much more solid concept to him. He felt more alive, but not in a good way. He felt much too solid for this realm.

"It means whatever life you choose, Irk is what will stay in your heart." Irk called him by that name again, the name that sealed his fate and erased any past history he had created, and he felt himself being embraced by something much greater that anything that could be touched while living. Lightyears could pass as he was held by that light, and as Fer and all he had been melted away, he blended with his planet Irk.

* * *

Okay, that was…. Weird. It came out much more abstract that I wanted it to. Damn. I'm not rewriting this. STORY ENDED. 

Sorry I couldn't do a better job, everybody… Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and internet chocolate elves for everyone who reviewed more than once. It kept me motivated to finish this story. I luvs you alls.

The light thing wasn't supposed to be anything religious, by the way. It's just an overused concept I went with because I am not original. Just wanted to clear that up.

And sorry I never got in the hang of writing long chapters. Maybe I will by the next story (I prolly won't do anything new, and especially not a chapter story, until I get internet access returned at my house. Typing in places with other people around is too weird).


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